Wizard101 One-Shots
by TheGreaterShade
Summary: A collection of random, bite-sized fanfics with no particular rhyme of reason to them. Fluff, drabbled, and things I wrote because I was bored. Formal disclaimer inside.
1. Understanding, Sylvia on the Wall

Formal Disclaimer!

This is strictly is a work of fan fiction using the characters and settings of the MMORPG Wizard101. Wizard101, its characters, the universe of the Spiral, and all the worlds therein are owned by KingsIsle Entertainment. I do not work for KingsIsle Entertainment, have any contact with them directly, or claim any ownership of their characters, concepts, or ideas. The story I have written is not purported or believed to be cannon to the game and is for entertainment purposes only. I am thankful to KingsIsle for the elaborate worlds and characters they have created, without which this story would not exist. I thank everyone and anyone who reads, follows, and supports this story or any of my work, and invite you to please support the official game. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

Thunder cracked and rolled through the sky over Wizard City, as a light drizzle quickly turned to pouring rain.

Sleep didn't come easily to Sylvia, at least it hadn't for many years. Most nights were spent drifting in and out of hollow relief and unrelenting terror. It was a truth she refused to share, not even with her beloved husband or closest friends. She hated the thought of burdening them with images of those memories.

Hours passed and Sylvia stood unmoving, staring into the bleak expanse of the stormy sky from atop the city ramparts. Her body was rigid and inflexible, her fists tightly clenched, her face a mess of matted wet hair and gritted teeth. She wanted to scream, to do something, anything for reprieve. After a while, all she could muster was a soft sigh. Now thoroughly drenched, Sylvia closed her eyes and remembered…

It had been a sunny day, without a single cloud in sight, it had been a day like any other. She'd been standing high on the academy's walls enjoying the view. Her beloved Malistaire blew her a kiss from the campus below. She'd blushed at the gesture, earning a bit of teasing from her friends.

She hadn't entirely registered the sound, but it stunned the bustling city into complete silence. An overwhelming sense of dread pooled in her chest, as students and staff poured onto the campus.

The top of the Great Spyre cracked, sending buildings tumbling down the mountainside. The shrieking was near deafening as the summit burst open; a colossal pair of draconic wings stretched into the sky. The ground shook, another part of the mountain giving way, as a massive clawed hand reached into the daylight.

Alarm bells boomed throughout the city, people and soldiers were scrambling by, someone shouted for her to move. But she couldn't, her legs where like lead beneath her. Frozen in place, her eyes transfixed upon the mountaintop.

The peak shattered, the blue sky bathed in swaths of ash and dust. A searing wind blew down the mountain, the leathery snap of its wings was like a hurricane in the height of summer. A great terrible shadow rolled across the ground, as the sky became twilight for as far as the eye could see. Sylvia dared to look up to see the titanic being whose mass had blotted out the sun.

A sky shattering roar left her ears ringing as the ground began to rumble. Sylvia fell to her knees, desperately trying to cover her ears. There was a pain in her forehead, a vibration, a summon. One by one every pyromancer in the academy was taken by the same effect. Terrified, flames erupted from her fingertips and something terrible stirred deep within her.

A compulsion, a desire to watch the world burn…

Sylvia could see torchlight from the corner of her eyes, a city guard carefully approached her. A question was posed to her, one she answered with ambiguity rather than genuine desire. An ultimatum was issued, to which Sylvia stared blankly in response. After a moment her voice trembled to life, devoid of all emotion. After several minutes the guard left, flustered, leaving her to her grief.

The titan's wrath had been all consuming, entire city blocks were destroyed overnight. The peaceful sanctuary of the Basilica was laid waste, the Grand Necropolis desecrated, the priceless collection of knowledge kept within the Great Library completely ransacked.

One by one, day by day, entire districts of their great city fell to total anarchy. Entire families turned against each other and the greatest champions of their people perished. Tyrants, kings, and heroes rose and fell like day and night. Within a week a once proud, accomplished people were reduced to a few hundred frightened souls, and she was one of them.

The hoard of the titan's army drew closer. A council was called, frantic fearful arguments ensued. Who would go? Who would stay?

After a night of heated deliberation, the decision was made. Those who could not fight would abandon the city, everyone who could would cover their escape.

They rose in the early hours of the morning, quickly moving civilians and supplies to the last dreadnaught the Dragonspyrian navy had left. Every able dragon rider was assigned to escort it to Valencia, in the hopes the unicorns might grant them sanctuary. Their last hope was christened with a litany of prayers and fearful tears and launched in the dark of morning. Every warrior and mage strained to see the hundreds of people who saluted from the stern of the ship. All of them fearing the fate that awaited them.

They returned to the academy, there they stood motionless atop the besieged walls. Barely a hundred souls in full armor and armed to the teeth, with a single intact Dragonspyrian standard fluttering in the wind above their heads.

Slowly the hoard approached, an army of vagabonds, vagrants, and vermin filled the streets. The wicked children of the titan circled above them like vultures homing in on a fresh carcass. They cackled and screeched gleefully, mocking the sacrifice of those who stood upon the wall.

Malistaire took her hand and grasped it tightly. He whispered a short three words into her ear, a gesture which she returned.

An absolute massacre ensued, over half of their force dead in minutes. It started with a dragon seizing their standard and ended in a retreat. Everything in between flooded together into a muddled portrait of pure chaos.

Sylvia opened her eyes, finding herself on her knees weeping. For the first time in many years she mourned for everything they had lost. All the lives that had been snuffed out in an instant, the thousands of soldiers who'd died trying to combat the inevitable. The thousands more civilians who'd been swept up in the chaos, and those few who stayed and died to ensure their people might escape. But it hadn't ended there and there was nothing to stop it.

A single luminous gold eye fixed its gaze upon her. A horrible voice echoed loudly in her mind; her head throbbed painfully, eliciting an agonizing scream. It whispered horrible things, truths she refused to believe. It hissed and goaded, offering her everything and more, perfection even, if only she kneeled, listened, and obeyed. A sword of flame appeared in her hands, the eye demanded she cleanse herself of her imperfection; forcing her attention to the Drake twins.

She knew what it wanted, and couldn't remember her exact answer. The eye narrowed and ultimately cared not for her rebuttal.

Her mind and body ceased to be her own as she was turned. The eye forced her to remain conscious so she could see the pain in her beloved's face as he was forced to fight her. The pain was excruciating, the eye only prolonged it. It wanted her to suffer, it wanted her to see and feel every horrifying second. After what felt like ages she was cast down. Sent tumbling to the floor, discarded, uninteresting, imperfect, useless.

Her mind was drifting aimlessly, images flashing in quick sequence. Her mother and father as she left for the academy, her mentor Mavra berating her for the umpteenth time, the back of Pharenor's head as they flew over the city, one of Cyrus's paintings, her beloved's calloused hand offering her a stone rose.

The reels in her mind started to turn as she awoke upon hard stone.

Mustering the strength to stand, she began to bark orders to those who were left. They began one of the fastest rituals ever conducted, the titan's roars of pain and fury were absolute as its body began to petrify. It was working, they might win, they might survive! The titan's screeches stopped, and for the first time since the horror began the city was silent.

With little time to waste they began their escape, moving as fast as their legs would carry them. Her arms slung between either Drake's shoulder, struggling to keep pace until she found the littlest drop of strength to move on her own.

They were almost free of the city when a massive fissure opened, separating her from the Drake twins. Her beloved Malistaire screamed and shouted in ways that sickened her heart; exhausted and too weak to make the leap she beckoned them to continue without her. She would only be dead weight to them anyway.

Helplessly, Sylvia watched as Cyrus seized his brother's arm and dragged him away.

Time drifted by in some unknown quantity. She searched hopelessly through the near impassible labyrinth of smoldering towers and crumbling buildings for some route of escape. After two days of fruitless searching, Sylvia collapsed senseless to the ashen earth as a strange familiar shadow fell over her.

The next memory to follow was one of being swaddled in bandages and blankets in a quiet sterile room. The lights were turned low and the room furnished modestly with a desk covered in first aid supplies, and several clean hospital beds.

Everything in her body ached as she sat up, her throated was so dry it burned, her stomach painfully empty as looked around the room. Her eyes ceased their wanderings as the door opened to issue in a kind-faced koala carrying a glass of water and a familiar haggard witch.

Sylvia woke up shivering, huddled in a tight ball beneath the overhang of an empty guard tower. Unsure of exactly how long she'd there; her teeth were chattering as a bitter cold wind ripped across the walls. She slowly stood and looked to find the sky engulfed in early twilight. Sylvia flinched in surprise as a warm hand gently tugged at her shoulder. Wearily she turned around to find the familiar face of her husband.

With little effort he beckoned her down from the city wall, tempting her with his warm winter cloak and the offer of tea. They passed silently through the empty still sleeping streets, she could feel her husband's gaze fixated on her. She could sense his temptation to ask, though he proved wise enough not to.

They arrived home to a cold dark house, for a moment Sylvia wondered how long Malistaire had been looking for her. Though she had little time to dwell on the thought as her exhaustion was fast setting.

Malistaire picked up on this instantly, he helped her to the inviting sofa in front of the hearth. She watched with faint amusement as he struggled to light it and stubbornly refused all offers of magical assistance. Once lit, her beloved vanished from sight allowing her to slip into a light sleep. Malistaire gingerly woke her as he tossed a heavy blanket over her still shivering form. Offering her a cup of warm black tea, as promised.

For a moment she wondered when he had become so proficient at reading her, then she wondered when she had become so easy for him to read.

* * *

Malistaire seated himself on the opposite end of the sofa and made no move to approach her. Instead he watched her sip gently from the cup, taking a few short sips from his own before suddenly remembering why he preferred coffee to tea.

Sylvia was the strongest woman he had ever known; indeed, she was a beacon of hope and strength even in the darkest times. However, she wasn't without her flaws. He waited, faithfully for a sign, pondering the way the flames danced over her glasses to pass the time.

Minutes drifted into what seemed like hours as Malistaire watched Sylvia trace the rim of the now empty cup. She continued to brood, something she rarely did in front of him, but nevertheless conveyed her distress. Malistaire was no healer, indeed that talent fell upon his wife. However, this was a wound he knew, the deadly kind that festered silently eating away at the soul till an empty husk remained. A wound he too struggled and fought with day to day.

He could only help her if she wanted him to.

Then, finally, after what felt like ages Sylvia tentatively set down the cup and looked at him.

Slowly he moved closer, gently pulling her into his embrace as he softly whispered, "I understand."


	2. Star Gazing, Memories

Formal Disclaimer!

This is strictly is a work of fan fiction using the characters and settings of the MMORPG Wizard101. Wizard101, its characters, the universe of the Spiral, and all the worlds therein are owned by KingsIsle Entertainment. I do not work for KingsIsle Entertainment, have any contact with them directly, or claim any ownership of their characters, concepts, or ideas. The story I have written is not purported or believed to be cannon to the game and is for entertainment purposes only. I am thankful to KingsIsle for the elaborate worlds and characters they have created, without which this story would not exist. I thank everyone and anyone who reads, follows, and supports this story or any of my work, and invite you to please support the official game. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

Malistaire led a blindfolded Sylvia gingerly over the hilltop, having reached the chosen destination. A little patch of soft grass high up on the hillside. The view was for the most part unremarkable, a little burbling brook and large oak tree in the near distance. But that was not why he'd brought her here.

"Wait just a moment, do not remove the blindfold yet." Malistaire whispered, releasing her hand.

He moved eagerly, with barely contained excitement as he retrieved the blanket he'd brought here earlier.

"Can I take this off now?" Sylvia asked as he unfurled the blanket over the grass.

"Go ahead."

At first her face was one of confusion, staring at him trying to understand why he'd brought her here. Her expression quickly shifted to one of aw as her eyes moved upwards. Her hands drifted to her now open mouth, the slightest sigh escaping from her lungs. Sylvia drew closer to him, slowly sinking to her knees with her eyes fixed upon the heavens. He too looked upwards, with a slight smile upon his face, to see an endless sea of stars with little fluffy clouds drifting over it like tiny white ships.

"You'd said you wanted to observe the meteor shower. Even if we do not see any falling stars  
tonight, it will still have been a beautiful night." He said casually.

"Indeed." Sylvia barely managed to say, still mesmerized.

"This place had been my mother's." Malistaire began reverently, unsure of what to say. "A small spec of land on my family's estate which she had begged my father to leave untouched, begrudgingly he'd obliged. It was her sanctuary, away from my father and the rest of the world. She would often bring us here, my brother and I, when father became… irritable."

"Better days I assume?"

"Most definitely." He said laying back, "We hadn't a worry in the world. Cyrus and I would roll down this hill until our clothes were covered in grass stains. Sometimes we would chase each other with sticks and scour the rocks on some make-believe adventure Cyrus dreamed up. Other times we would catch toads from the brook and race them."

"Those poor toads."

"We didn't hurt them. Much… We did find a rather grumpy snapping turtle once."

Sylvia laughed, "Serves you both right."

"Do you see that oak tree down there?" He directed, "That is where she would sit, our mother. She would sit there in the shade and read to us or watch the clouds. We were too young to understand her predicament."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. It's nice to talk about her every once and awhile. Father would have Cyrus and I think she never existed at all if he could."

"I'm sorry you have to put up with him."

Malistaire shrugged, "He's not all bad. He's a hard-working man but a stressed one. Twenty years in the army has hardened him greatly. When our mother died, father thrust Cyrus and I into the academy. We wouldn't see him for weeks on end, he was always off campaigning or in some 'important' meeting. It was as if he wanted nothing to do with us. Then he chained this place off, assigned a detachment of guards to it and forbade anyone from entering. I was so angry at the time, I ceased caring."

"Was there ever a time when he was-"

"Kind? Happy? Different?"

Sylvia nodded.

"Probably, though not in my memory. He's always a scowling face in my mind, but he has his moments."

Malistaire fell silent as he looked up at the stars. His eyes fixed upon the constellations above him, reminiscing over his childhood. A single star blazed over the heavens in a thin white streak.

"I think you remind him of her." He said after a while, "In a small way, but a good one."

"And here I thought he hated me."

"He does not hate you, certainly not you. He hates us, and what we represent. I'd go as far as to say he is jealous."

Sylvia quirked an eyebrow, "Of what?"

"The fact we have a chance at something he never did…."


	3. Not What It Looks Like

Formal Disclaimer!

This is strictly is a work of fan fiction using the characters and settings of the MMORPG Wizard101. Wizard101, its characters, the universe of the Spiral, and all the worlds therein are owned by KingsIsle Entertainment. I do not work for KingsIsle Entertainment, have any contact with them directly, or claim any ownership of their characters, concepts, or ideas. The story I have written is not purported or believed to be cannon to the game and is for entertainment purposes only. I am thankful to KingsIsle for the elaborate worlds and characters they have created, without which this story would not exist. I thank everyone and anyone who reads, follows, and supports this story or any of my work, and invite you to please support the official game. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

Malistaire had come to Sylvia's classroom for lunch, as he often did. They sat on a pair of stools on either side of her desk, conversing, eating, and grading papers. Their students were thankfully long gone and wouldn't be back for a few hours yet. It was a welcome break that allowed the professors to relax and get some paperwork done, before evening classes inevitably rolled around. It also allowed him a private moment with his wife away from the prying eyes and jabbering mouths of their students.

"I swear sometimes teaching is like trying to herd firecats… Finnigan jinxed my chalk while my back was turned twice today!" Sylvia exclaimed.

Malistaire chuckled, "Do remind me, how many detentions does that make for this semester?"

"I stopped counting after fourteen. At least I only see him twice a week, I pity Dalia though."

"I'm happy I do not have this problem with my students."

"That is because your students are too terrified of you to even think of misbehaving. Come to think of it I should check his desk to make sure he didn't leave any 'surprises'. Last time it was a live snake." Sylvia said scooting the stool back.

Malistaire smirked slightly, imagining his wife's surprise as well as what she wrote down on the detention slip.

He observed her as she stood up and walked, the grace with which she moved was most enthralling. She'd been careful to avoid a certain step on the stairs leading down from her desk. Though he wasn't entirely sure why, he thought little of it. She made her way to the far corner of the room and checked through the surrounding desks, ultimately finding nothing.

"I think I ought to take these papers back to my classroom." Malistaire said as she approached the stairs, "And make sure Dworgyn hasn't set anything on fire."

Malistaire stood and descended the stairs, with a massive stack of papers in hand. Something tugged at the trim of his robes, catching him slightly off-guard as he began to topple. Sylvia's eyes went wide as she tried to move out of the way.

* * *

Cyrus heard a heavy thud and shuffling within the Life School has he approached its doors. He'd come looking for his brother as he was not in his usual classroom. Knowing Malistaire, he was probably here and so Cyrus opened the door without thinking.

Papers were strewn about the room as Cyrus looked to find the Life and Death professors in a tangled heap on the floor. His brother on top looking disheveled and slightly flustered, as Sylvia moaned trying to pry herself out from underneath him. The twin's eyes met; Malistaire's pale skin turned a faint pinkish red. That was all Cyrus needed to see, before he promptly turned on his heel and walked out.

He stood outside the Life School a moment, before his brother emerged having regained a small degree of composure.

"I can explain-"

Cyrus raised a hand, "I don't even want to know and as a matter of fact I don't care. I understand you're married and whatever you two do on your personal time is your business. But please refrain from doing it here, and if not than may I suggest locking the door."

His brother looked at him somewhat exasperated before Sylvia opened the door, grinning ear to ear.

"Is that what you thought we were doing?" Sylvia laughed as she turned to regard the myth professor, "Kindly get your head out of the gutter."

Cyrus turned bright red, "You mean you two weren't-"

The couple shook their heads.

"Not here, never in a million years, we have a house for that." Sylvia commented still smiling.

"Well… In that case- I've been meaning to speak to you- I had wanted to ask-" Cyrus's voice trailed off, "I just forgot what I was going to ask."

Sylvia chuckled, "Do let us know if you remember."


	4. Make Me

Formal Disclaimer!

This is strictly is a work of fan fiction using the characters and settings of the MMORPG Wizard101. Wizard101, its characters, the universe of the Spiral, and all the worlds therein are owned by KingsIsle Entertainment. I do not work for KingsIsle Entertainment, have any contact with them directly, or claim any ownership of their characters, concepts, or ideas. The story I have written is not purported or believed to be cannon to the game and is for entertainment purposes only. I am thankful to KingsIsle for the elaborate worlds and characters they have created, without which this story would not exist. I thank everyone and anyone who reads, follows, and supports this story or any of my work, and invite you to please support the official game. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

Sylvia's wrath was among one of the most terrifying things Malistaire had ever seen, and he was not afraid of much. She was angry, about what he was unsure. It could have been any number of things, though thankfully it didn't seem to be him.

He watched her silently from the stone benches surrounding the field as a barrage of gold flame shot across it. The blackened metal construct she'd been dueling for the past minute began to make a sickening whining sound. Another bolt of gold flame found its mark, turning white as it bored a hole through its chest.

Malistaire took this as his cue to approach her, it had taken him nearly an hour to calibrate that construct and she'd reduced it to a heap of twisted scrap in less than a minute. If she kept this up there wouldn't be anything left.

Sylvia stood rigid with clenched fists, breathing heavily through her barely contained rage as he tentatively drew closer.

"Again." She said flatly, without even looking at him. "Set up the next one."

Malistaire crossed his arms, he detested the idea of being treated like a servant.

"No." He answered bluntly, "You're done for today."

"I'm not finished until I say I'm finished!"

"Excuse me?!" Malistaire said, holding up the torso of the broken metal construct so she could see the hole she'd put in it.

He promptly dropped it, the torso struck the ground with a cold clang, "You are finished, and we are leaving."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!" She seethed, tendrils of smoke escaping from her fists.

"I know when something is eating at you, Sylvia, and blowing things to smithereens is not a way of coping with it!" He exclaimed.

Sylvia glared at him, her green eyes alight with newfound fury. He knew she wanted to strike him; he could see the desire as plain as day. He braced himself but what happened next surprised him, she turned her back to him flustered.  
A moment passed and Malistaire sighed, "Will you please come with me?"

"Make me." Sylvia taunted, refusing to give in.

Sylvia had turned just long enough to see him smile. A fiendish, wicked, white grin that went from ear to ear. Malistaire had an idea, a wonderfully horrible idea.

* * *

It was perhaps the strangest thing Cyrus had ever seen, and he had seen many strange things. But this was nearing the top of the list; a certain Sylvia Spitfire slung over his brother's shoulder, like baggage on a drake's back. What's more was that his brother was smiling and laughing, a deep sound that threatened to shake the earth, in the way he did when he'd done something clever. On top of this Sylvia was scowling, Cyrus hadn't even thought she could scowl let alone frown.

Though, he could have felt the sting of her gaze from miles away as she caught sight of him.

"Cyrus!" She called, "Please help!"

Cyrus tentatively approached as his brother slowed his pace.

"Thank Gavarena you're here! Your oaf of a brother has taken me hostage."

Cyrus babbled, eventually finding the words, "So it would seem…"

"You did this to yourself Spitfire." Malistaire said sounding purely amused.

"Just because I told you to, doesn't mean you should do it. What if I'd told you to go jump off a bridge?!" Sylvia growled spitefully kneeing him in the ribs.

"Is my company _that_ atrocious?"

"Ugh." Sylvia rolled her eyes, "Would you kindly put me down."

After a moment Malistaire finally obliged.

"Thank you." Sylvia said curtly as she straightened her clothes.

Malistaire gave a quick nod then slowly stalked away.

Cyrus massaged his temples, only speaking once his brother was beyond earshot, "I must apologize Sylvia, my brother is infamous for his very literal sense of humor."


	5. Journey's End, Not That Person Anymore

Formal Disclaimer!

This is strictly is a work of fan fiction using the characters and settings of the MMORPG Wizard101. Wizard101, its characters, the universe of the Spiral, and all the worlds therein are owned by KingsIsle Entertainment. I do not work for KingsIsle Entertainment, have any contact with them directly, or claim any ownership of their characters, concepts, or ideas. The story I have written is not purported or believed to be cannon to the game and is for entertainment purposes only. I am thankful to KingsIsle for the elaborate worlds and characters they have created, without which this story would not exist. I thank everyone and anyone who reads, follows, and supports this story or any of my work, and invite you to please support the official game. Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

Sylvia sat cross legged on the ground, picking at the grass, looking across the dying campfire at Malistaire. He sat eerily silent his back pressed against a large tree, brooding as he stared ambiently into the night sky. His features caught in the golden-red glow of the smoldering embers, in such a way that made him look near spectral, almost otherworldly.

On the ground sat a large leather pouch atop it four large fire shards, each almost the size and length of her hand. A fiery gold light flickered and danced within them, Sylvia and Malistaire gave a soft sigh.

They both knew what they signified, an end to a long journey. A journey neither of them had wanted to take initially, and especially not together. It had been one fraught with twists, turns, trials and tribulations. It had taken them over mountains and under them, through greatest joy and deepest sorrow, and now at the edge of the world it wanted to take them home again.

"So," Sylvia began, breaking the silence "What are you going to do when this is over?"

Malistaire looked up at her, "Honestly, I don't know. Perhaps I'll try my luck at becoming the champion of the grand arena."

"And after that? Now having fought several dragons, and lived to tell about it, I don't think you'll have much a problem accomplishing that."

"Then perhaps I'll brush up on my philosophy, write a book of poetry-"

Sylvia snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"It would take a small miracle, I know. In the meantime I might look into becoming a private necromancy tutor, or a dueling instructor." Sylvia feigned a shocked gasp; Malistaire shrugged, "It might be nice to pass on what I've learned and focus on something new."

"In that case, I think you'd make an excellent teacher."

"You actually think so?"

"You have the perfect resume for it. Who wouldn't want the greatest duelist in Dragonspyre Academy mentoring them in magic?"

Malistaire chuckled, rolling his eyes at the compliment, "I may be the best in the academy; but a great duelist never ceases learning and I have much to learn before I am remotely great."

"Touché."

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure I know either, but I think I'm going to forgo my previous plans."

"You're not going to stay in the academy?"

Sylvia shook her head, "I don't think I'll be joining the army either."

Malistaire stared at her, his mouth agape; a look of genuine surprise on his face, "I must admit of all the people I know; you are the last person I imagined hearing this from."

"I know, I'm scaring myself too with this."

"Might I ask what brought you to this great epitome?"

"I don't know, but- you know how the academy is-"

Malistaire nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

"-They try to tell us who we are, where to go, and what to be and for the longest time I was content with that. I took pride in the knowledge of someone else's plans for my future. I felt security in the fact that all my dreams were the ones the academy had put into my head. But now, having been outside the academy for so long, having done all these seemingly impossible and crazy things- All I see is the dull existence someone else wants for me."

"And?"

"I don't want to be that person anymore. I just can't see myself being happy like that. I don't want to live my life like a cog in a machine, I don't want to be told what to do, where to go, and who to be, because I know who I am-  
There's so much more the world has to offer than what the academy would want for you, your brother, and myself even. There's an entire world out there, a Spiral's worth of them even! Who said we had to stay here?!"

"Where would you go then?" Malistaire mused, seeming truly curious.

"I don't know, but would it be selfish of me to want- crazy if I- what if I asked you-"

Sylvia's stammering led her to a profound silence. For the first time she could feel the walls, the one's she refused to admit existed. The ones she'd built at the behest of someone else to hide her heart; to shelter it from the world and all its tribulations. The walls, who's strict guidance she'd followed for ages, suddenly started to give way and strangely she wasn't afraid.

"Asked me what?" Malistaire said, having crossed the distance between them to sit in front of her.

The fire was now long out, leaving them alone in the starlight.

Slowly Sylvia spoke, "To be there with me?"


End file.
